BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: (It’s too late, but that gives me an idea. There may still be a way.)
DICK GIBSON: (Is it a long shot?)
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: (Yes.)
DICK GIBSON: (Is it risky?)
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: (Yes.)
DICK GIBSON: (Is it one chance in a million?)
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: (More or less.)
DICK GIBSON: (What is it? A man’s life’s at stake. It may be worth a try.)
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: His life for your silence!
DICK GIBSON: Hey, what is this?
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: Your silence for his life. An even trade.
DICK GIBSON: Hey, cut it out. Come on. Hey!
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: Shh.
DICK GIBSON: (fiercely) The show must go on!
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: It will.
DICK GIBSON: I must be on it! The show must go on and I must be on it. I’m the show.
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: But you’ve got nothing to show. I’m taking your voice.
DICK GIBSON: No.
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: Yes. I’m having it. I’m shoving it down your throat. Give it up. Let him live.
DICK GIBSON: What are you talking about? No!
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: They’ll board up your mouth like plate-glass smashed by the thieves. I’m taking your voice, I’m making you still.
DICK GIBSON: No. What do you think this is? No!
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: Some reticence there.
DICK GIBSON: The show—
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: Hold it down. People are sleeping.
DICK GIBSON: I will not hold it down.
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: Dummy up, Dicky.
DICK GIBSON: I will not dummy up.
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: Stow it. Break off.
DICK GIBSON: I will not stow it. I won’t break off.
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: Unutter! Muzzle! Give me your word you’ll give me your voice.
DICK GIBSON: [He means to speak but can’t think of anything to say. Perhaps he can do the alphabet, and go on to numbers. He can’t remember the alphabet. What’s the first number? That’s it: First is the first number.]
First!
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: Be mute, you turtle. You giraffe.
DICK GIBSON: (faintly) First … and … another …
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: I have your voice. I almost have it. I have the others’ and I’m getting yours.
HENCEFORTH I CONTROL THE BROADCAST PATTERN OF THIS PROGRAM. I ENGINEER THE ENGINEERING. I USURP THE SIGNAL. I DIRECT IT AND REDIRECT IT. I WHISPER … (and we are blacked out in New England). (in a normal voice) I’m changing the sound patterns. I raise my voice … (He raises his voice.) AND I AM HEARD ACROSS THE MISSISSIPPI. COME IN KANSAS, COME IN CALIFORNIA. (to Dick Gibson) Now. Give me your voice, give up the rest of it. The voice is the sound—
DICK GIBSON: of the soul! (determined) You’ll never get it. Not as long as I wear this solid-blue tie in this white-walled studio. You ought to wear glasses; you’ve buttoned your sweater wrong.
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: (ferociously) The Virgin Mary sucks!
DICK GIBSON: The opinions expressed on this program are those of Dr. Behr-Bleibtreau and not necessarily those of this station or of the sponsors. I repeat, Dr. Behr-Bleibtreau’s opinions are his own and not necessarily those of the Naval Air Reserve or Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires.
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: It’s useless, Gibson. I’ll have your silence. I’ll get your voice.
DICK GIBSON: Want to bet? (to the panel and guests in the studio) Let’s hear it. Everybody sing. Let’s hear it. You, Jack. One word. Say the word. Pepper? Come on, Pepper, old pep pot. You’re the lady. Ladies go first. A word. A noise. No? Not yet? Catch your breath, dear; I’ll get back to you. Bernie? Say something in Latin, Doc. Recite a prescription. Mel? Give us a sigh, Mel. Give us a lovegroan. Somebody cough, for Christ’s sake! What? No one?
BEHR-BLEIBTREAU: They can’t help you. I’ve only been playing up to now. I’ve been teasing you. The rest is real.
Are you ready? Listen:
I do the sailors’ knot in your vocal cords. I twist your tongue, I tie it. I give you pause, lump in the throat, I give you stammer and smoker’s cough. I give you sore throat and ache your tooth. I give you harelip. I chap it. I huff and I puff and the roof of your mouth comes down. I murder your breath. Shush, man. Hush. Mum’s the word. Soft spoken, there. Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright. Speak softly and carry a big stick. Still waters run deep. Quiet Please, Hospital Zone.
Now … Say “She sells seashells down by the seashore.” Say “The Leith police dismisseth us.” [Behr-Bleibtreau pauses. Gibson is silent. Then: ] Because I am perfect, because I am straight, because I am without flaw, because I am correct, because I am pure, because I am unblemished and upright, because I am without stain and without aberration, because I have never looked up a dress on the stairs or handled myself in the shower or stolen from dimestores or forged Mother’s name on a note from home; because I have never broken and entered or eaten between meals; because I have never fired a shot in anger or hoarded or said “ain’t” or gone on a binge or butt into line or chewed gum in class or overslept or failed to share; because I have never hit-and-run, told fibs, raped, played the radio loud while others were sleeping or stuck out my tongue or been a bad neighbor; because I have never picked my nose or thumbed it or sat while the old have stood or parked where I shouldn’t; because I’ve never cheated at cards, made rude noises, scrawled bad words on walls in toilets or kept books overdue from the library, lied to Customs, drunk while driving, fudged my taxes or broken windows with balls or stones; because I’ve never murdered or lived in sin; because I have never clipped, high-sticked, fouled the shooter, never talked back to the umpire or jumped the gun; because my backfield’s never been in motion and I’ve never not hung up my things— because of all this and more, I exercise my right to call on demons, spirits and avenging angels!
Solomon collected the demons in a bottle and sealed them with the Seal of Solomon — the six-pointed Star. We’ll need that. Wait. I have it.
[Behr-Bleibtreau reaches forward, takes the Hebrew National Salami from the lazy susan, turns the meaty cylinder in his hand and locates the trademark — a Star of David. Placing this face up on the table, he draws an imaginary circle around himself with his finger, then leans forward and touches the Star.]
This! We’ll use this! This will be the Seal of Solomon!
Calling the demons, thanking the demons, useful demons who teach us things — who put the new math in our heads, and help us with piano, French, the point of jokes.
Calling the demons, Lucifer’s demons, Lucifer’s troopers, Lucifer’s dead; calling the demons, praising the demons, nothing fulsome, nothing false, praising the demons, commending the demons, extolling the demons, giving dem demons all dere due. Giving them medals, honors, Hosannahs, giving them all that they deserve—
Calling the demons, needing the demons, up from the bottle where they are sealed, calling the demons, demanding the demons, up and up from the jar of hell. Come to us. Come now. No false alarms for demons, no crying wolf for demons, no dry runs at demons’ expense—